When the Bough Breaks
by Sarah Willow
Summary: Kicking Spoiler out of comicdom...the right way. wrote this long before she got gacked. I thought about letting her die in this but thought it would be too rash. silly me
1. The Knife

Tim's fist connected and he instantly regretted agreeing to this exercise. Stephanie doubled over his arm without a sound. He had instinctively struck her after she exhaled, with a blow intended to make her diaphragm spasm. Though she couldn't breathe, to her credit she did manage to clumsily evade the next three strikes before falling to her knees signaling she was finished. She knelt hunched with hands on knees, gasping.  
  
"You...pulled (huff) your punch."  
  
"Steph..." Tim squatted next to her but she wasn't finished.  
  
"And those last three were like quarter speed."  
  
She looked up and realized he wasn't even sweating. It had taken him less than a minute to bring her down this time. The most frustrating part was that she knew he'd started going easy on her lately yet she seemed to be getting worse.  
  
"You know I hate sparing with you. You're not a thug, Steph. I don't want to break ribs. Why don't you ask Batgirl to do this? She doesn't have the emotional attachment I do, and she has better control."  
  
"Which just means she can hit me harder without serious injury." Stephanie idly touched her jaw.  
  
Tim couldn't help but chuckle. "Isn't that what you want?"  
  
She glared at him. He sat back on his elbows.  
  
"Wait. You just chastised me for pulling punches yet you won't take them from someone that you know won't go light on you?"  
  
"She broke my jaw." Steph retorted incredulously.  
  
"It was a hairline fracture." He laughed "If you're afraid of something as little as..."  
  
She was suddenly on her feet seething. "I am Not afraid!" Her voice rose to a confrontational level and Tim grimaced.  
  
"Steph," He rose and wrapped his arms around her from behind. "That's not what I meant." She relaxed somewhat and closed her eyes trying to take comfort in his embrace.  
  
"I just want to be good enough, Tim." She could feel the burning behind her eyes but wouldn't allow herself to cry. Tim half grinned.  
  
"Believe me I understand." He turned her to face him. "But if there's one thing I've learned from this whole business it's that you need to be good enough for yourself first. If you're doing this because Batman says you're not, then believe me, you never will be."  
  
"Then how will I know?" she couldn't keep her voice from shaking slightly. "Who will tell me when it's enough?" He looked down into her eyes.  
  
"You will, Steph. But, you have to be honest with yourself."  
  
"What do you mean?" she pulled away slightly.  
  
He closed his eyes a moment then opened them to hold her gaze again.  
  
"You have to consider...that this may be your best."  
  
"What?" she whispered, eyes narrowed.  
  
"You've worked so hard" he went on hastily. "You've put everything into learning these fighting techniques, and...well, if this is the level you're capable of then you need to accept that. That needs to be good enough."  
  
She wrenched away and stared as if he'd driven a knife into her. There was no holding back the tears now.  
  
"You're on his side!" She sobbed. Tim reached out for her again.  
  
"This isn't about him, Steph, it's about you." But she backed away.  
  
"Even you won't give me a chance!"  
  
He made no effort to stop her as she stormed out the door, but sighed heavily when she was gone. There was no reasoning with her when she was this way. He caught himself wondering if she was menstruating and imagined Barbara smacking him upside the head.  
  
********  
  
Spoiler had come to this crazy part of town looking for trouble knowing all along she should have at least stayed in contact with Tim. But, he'd made his feelings on the matter quite plain in her view. She wanted to get in over her head tonight. She wanted to take on too much and triumph. Spoiler needed to know she was good enough and she felt this was the only way to prove it to herself.  
  
She'd been fuming and flying again, never noticing the attention she was attracting from a particularly vicious gang. This little purple caped crusader was a perfect target. She reeked of "Bat Clan" but seemed much more vulnerable. The perfect scapegoat for any spurned criminal. Her line was cut and at first she'd fought the first three off rather well, but a savage kick to the ribs had sent her sprawling as even more thugs ran into the alley. So, she ran. They hadn't picked this alley randomly. It was more than just a dead end; it was a tomb. She whirled around as the leader grappled her.  
  
"Let's see our pretty prize shall we boys?" He didn't wait for their hoots of agreement before ripping her mask off taking the hood with it.  
  
She felt absurdly naked with her hood off in front of this total stranger. The irony of this thought almost made her laugh in spite of her situation. She was certain of what they had in mind for her. He wanted his fun and she wanted to flee. She decided then that one of them would die trying.  
  
The man hesitated and she cursed herself for projecting her move, but it was to her advantage that he'd pulled away somewhat before her head collided with the bridge of his nose. She had more leverage that way. Spoiler did not consider this, however, since she was already chiding herself for her next mistake. It was a solid blow but he was much more resilient than she'd anticipated; unnaturally so. He stumbled back with a curse but did not release her arm. She reacted expecting to instantly engage the next six but was instead whipped straight back into her captor. His grip was astounding and she realized too late that he was hyped.  
  
"Don't leave yet, freak. We're just getting started with you." This time he pinned her to the wall so hard she thought her arms would break. "You'd have to kill us to stop us now and it pretty obvious you're not going to." He pressed himself against her and she cried out as one of her broken ribs swam under the pressure. Her vision went black and she was sure she'd lose consciousness.  
  
"She won't but I will." Came another male voice from above and to her left. She heard a sickening crunch and suddenly, the brute who'd been holding her crumpled to the ground. Spoiler felt something splash onto her face and forced her eyes open. She saw the back of a strong, blonde man as he faced the others.  
  
Oh good, she thought, he's on my side.  
  
With no one holding her up she slumped to the ground which sent another crack of pain through her body. As her eyes fluttered before she passed out entirely, Stephanie considered: Good thing too. He's wearing a hockey jersey but he's beating them with a baseball bat...with nails sticking out of it. 


	2. White Blur

The first thing Stephanie became aware of was the faint beeping that mirrored her heartbeat. Then the slight pressure of the I.V. Finally she opened her eyes to a white blur.  
  
That smell. Steph knew that smell and upon recognizing it she closed her eyes again, not waiting for them to focus. There was no need. She knew where she was. The last time she was here she'd made the biggest decision of her life. Or had it been? She'd actually made the biggest decision in a life just beginning. It hadn't really affected her that much. Had it? What had she done with herself since then that would reflect that decision? No immediate answer came and the ensuing emptiness prompted her to curl up on her side. As she twisted at the waist beginning the roll from her back, lightning shot through her body and she cried out in pain.  
  
This didn't surprise her so much- she instantly remembered the fight in the alley- but the strong, slender fingers that gently grasped her shoulder, slowly but firmly pushing her back into the bed and the soothing voice that followed certainly caught her off guard.  
  
"Miss Brown, you should lie still. You're no doubt still in much pain." Stephanie knew this was a stranger though she could not see him. Yet, everything about his manner calmed her in a way she could not describe. She opened her eyes and allowed them to focus on the hospital room. Sitting by her bed side was a slender man she wouldn't call old but he was certainly past his prime. He'd retracted his arm and sat straight but relaxed regarding her with concern.  
  
She blinked several times and realized she must be on some powerful pain medication. The world seemed fuzzy and her thoughts were sluggish coming only with effort.  
  
"I'm to apologize for Tim. He sent me to look after you until he can come himself. He says he's quite busy but I believe he's rather upset with you. I'd suggest you think of a good apology, young miss. He's not the kind of lad you want to lose because of a silly quarrel like this." There was no condescension in his words. In fact he was so forward and sincere she caught herself feeling a pang of regret, inwardly reciting her excuses for what she had done. Instantly she resented him. Then glaring:  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
He bowed slightly at the waist.  
  
"My name is Alfred. I believe we met briefly though you may not recall" She did vaguely and nodded her affirmation. "Now, if I may inquire. I've been anxious to know what you remember from your ordeal. Specifically, how you came to be found lying unconscious and half naked in an alley." Steph recoiled, pulling her blanket a little closer to her chin. Alfred went on pointedly. "Your physician found no sign that you'd been molested in any way but your injuries are substantial. Then there are the half-dozen or so thugs they found around you, most of which are in critical condition." He paused lowering his head a moment. Stephanie, watching him closely, thought she caught a glimpse of the expression he was attempting to hide. It held an almost palpable dread as though the words he was about to say carried the most dire of consequences. But, it was there and gone again replaced in a moment by the objective face of duty. "The one found closest to you was dead when the ambulance arrived."  
  
Stephanie didn't know how this man expected her to react but it was immediately apparent that the rattled sigh of relief that escaped her took him by surprise. She stared at the ceiling and wondered at herself. Something inside her had hoped that man would die. In the alley she felt justified in self-defense to take any measures needed to keep him from his goal. She knew she did not have the strength or control to incapacitate him without killing him. She realized bitterly that, in that moment, the idea had been moot since she hadn't the strength to even break free much less try to harm him. But, now...shouldn't she feel bad? She could understand the lack of guilt; After all, she hadn't personally taken a bat to his head.  
  
When Robin had explained so passionately the line that must never be crossed- that they could never under any circumstances by action or inaction take another human life- she had thought it was a given. Of course, this was the defining line between the good guys and the bad guys. Besides, she couldn't kill anyone if she'd wanted to and she couldn't imagine wanting to so she never gave it a second thought.  
  
Now she was thinking about it and by her inaction- no, by her incompetence, a man was dead. And for whatever reason, she could not deny her relief and utter lack of grief.  
  
"Are you uncomfortable?" the words interrupted Stephanie's self-battery. She misunderstood at first and so retorted defiantly.  
  
"Why? Should I be?" He smiled patiently.  
  
"You are shifting in your bed and fussing with the I.V. Do you need it replaced or another pillow perhaps?" She blushed, realizing he was not referring to her thoughts. By way of apology she decided to open up a bit.  
  
"Just being here makes me a little uneasy. In the hospital, I mean."  
  
"Is this due to lack of experience or unpleasant memories?" He inquired kindly and she was glad he was so willing to change the subject despite the fact that she had yet to answer any of his previous questions. She considered.  
  
"Neither really. I've stayed in the hospital once before but at the time it wasn't...so bad." Before she knew it she was telling him the whole story. About the child she'd given away literally hours after it was born. She was surprised to feel a tear slide down her face; she wasn't sad. It was relief, she realized, looking up at Alfred. He was listening, no interrupting with stupid questions, no criticism. Yet that was not all she was feeling. She had thought she'd made her peace with the whole matter but it felt so good to talk about it. She realized there was something lingering that she'd been avoiding, but still she couldn't quite place it.  
  
"So you regret this?" he asked.  
  
"Never." She stated flatly.  
  
"Then why do you carry shame?" He asked with such confidence, as though her soul was laid bare before him. Her rebellious retort died on her lips and she shrugged in defeat.  
  
"I don't know." But even as she said this it came to her. She felt she had shirked her responsibility. She'd made a terrible mistake and her penance consisted of nine short months of minor discomfort and an epidural. Then, without batting an eyelash she'd dumped any remaining responsibility on a total stranger. The tears flowed freely now. No hysterics or sobbing, just understanding and relief.  
  
Alfred seemed to read her mind. "But it was right, wasn't it." She nodded gratefully. "Now only one mystery remains." He went on. She assumed, having resolved this issue, he would now redirect the subject back to the night before. So, she closed her eyes and prepared to recite what she could remember.  
  
"What needless punishment have you devised to replace this discarded motherhood?"  
  
The unexpected question left Stephanie stunned momentarily. She actually didn't understand what he was asking for several seconds. Then, it hit her like a physical blow. Tim had told this strange old man who she was and now he was suggesting that Spoiler was nothing more than a subconscious need to punisher herself.  
  
She balled up her fists in rage.  
  
"I was Spoiler before that you know!" She snarled between clenched teeth. There was no reply. She shot the empty chair next to her bed a look that could have melted it but it didn't hit its mark. In fact, Alfred was nowhere in the room. She began to breathe heavily and a lump formed in her throat. What was she doing? Had he really known or had she just told him? Had he presented a conclusion or had she come to it on her own?  
  
Her next thought was a murderous one directed at the still absent Timothy Drake for a hundred things she couldn't call to mind in her rage. Then came a feeling of betrayal from the mysterious Alfred who'd purged her shame only to cast doubt on her highest ambition.  
  
As she forced herself to slow her breathing and relax she realized how completely Alfred had faded from existence. As she slipped into fitful sleep she wondered if he'd been there at all. After all, where would such a man- the perfect blend of humility and dignity- learn such a devious trick? 


	3. Justify

"What's black and blue and red all over?" the gruff voice echoed through the empty building. Detective Grant whirled in surprise to face the intruder. The kid he'd been talking to bolted with the speed and skill of a rat. A young dirty-blonde brute jumped from the nearest stack of rusting machinery onto the startled officer.  
  
"You!" the assailant answered himself as he landed. Grant fell to keep the younger man's momentum, then used it to throw him. Though he kept his strength up, the detective hadn't actually fought anyone in years. He didn't recover as quickly as he'd have liked and it cost him. A rock-solid fist found his kidney and lifted him a good four inches off the ground. That's when he knew he was in trouble.  
  
"Dealing to little kids," The brute spat. "You aughta be ashamed." A knee followed this accusation, knocking the wind from the older man. "But since you don't seem real broke up about it." An elbow smashed into the back of his head and Grant saw a bright flash. He sputtered as best he could.  
  
"He's a...contact..." but he was cut short by a stiff kick to the face that released his fragile grip on consciousness.  
  
**************  
  
Spoiler entered the abandoned factory from a top level window. Coming back to this part of town only two days after her encounter in the alley below was ludicrous and she knew it. Her sides ached from exertion even though she moved infuriatingly slowly. But Tim had been no comfort at all and he didn't mention sending Alfred. The more time went by the more she believed she'd only dreamed the strange visitor and their conversation.  
  
So, here she was, seeking out her savior, secretly hoping that a man who patrols the streets with a baseball bat saving young women could solve all her problems. She rolled her eyes at herself not for the first time, but still crept further into the building.  
  
She heard a muffled voice and upon reaching a cat walk, leaned over gingerly to find the man she'd been looking for. He was standing over an unconscious black man in a trench coat. She cocked her head and blew caution to the wind.  
  
"This is not what I expected at all." The blonde man's head snapped up with an expression as though she'd walked in on him in the bathroom. Startled, and a little angry but mostly embarrassed. Upon recognizing her he grinned.  
  
"So the purple girl returns."  
  
"What are you doing? Is he alright?" She was more than a little concerned. Fortunately his explanation reassured her.  
  
"He'll be fine. Just some jerk cop I taught a lesson to for dealing to a little kid." He shrugged. "Saw it all the time in the 'Haven. They take the stuff from guys they bust and sell it back on the street for extra cash." He looked at her quizzically. "Are you comin' down or what?" already bored with the subject.  
  
Spoiler blushed, suddenly grateful for her hood. The attraction she felt for him embarrassed and excited her at the same time. He had strong features and exuded a raw unchecked energy that was both frightening and appealing. He took her silence another way, however.  
  
"Oh. That's right you're probly still pretty broken up." He thought a moment. "Can you meet me on the roof in a minute? I wanna do one more thing." She nodded and turned back toward the window she'd come in. As she inched her way up she heard glass breaking somewhere below and wondered. When he hoisted himself into view she got a better look at him. He was wearing a plain hockey jersey, but there was no sign of the bat. Then she noticed he'd gained an accessory. A metal baton hung from his waist.  
  
"That's new." She pointed nonchalantly.  
  
"Oh this." He whipped it up and flipped it in his fingers expertly. "Figured that crooked cop didn't need it anymore. Heh." Spoiler cringed inwardly. The breaking glass. She shook her head. "Hey what do you say we get outa here." He continued. "No tellin' if that kid'll bring back his buddies. Might even be in the gang that..."  
  
"Sure. Fine, let's go." She cut him off and turned to throw a line to the next building.  
  
"Whoa, Hot Stuff, not like that." He grasped her wrist and not gently. "You're too hurt for that." She pulled free and turned to face him.  
  
"It's Spoiler! And how do you think I got here?" She was lying, of course. She'd hitched a ride on the back of the light rail then climbed the fire escape very slowly. The fib had the desired effect though. He took a small step back and looked her up and down as though seeing her for the first time. Then, suddenly waived it off.  
  
"Well, I'm Tad!" he mocked the emphases on her name. "and I couldn't keep up with you anyway. Come on. The place I'm stayin' isn't very far. We'll go my way."  
  
They did hop a few buildings before descending to the street, then further, under it. Tad's way turned out to be the sewers. It didn't take long.  
  
"So you're from Bludhaven?" Spoiler asked trying not to sound too interested.  
  
"Yeah" He replied easily. "That's where I usually patrol. Just laying low up here in Gotham for a while. I've sorta got a score to settle but I'm waiting for the right time."  
  
He'd been leading but now dropped back to walk along side her.  
  
"So what's your real name?" he asked.  
  
"And why would I tell you that?" She was playing and he knew it.  
  
"Maybe because I saved your life." Again, he mocked her tone perfectly.  
  
"Don't you know about Secret Identities?" she fingered her hood.  
  
"Hey, I'm the one who tossed your costume before I called the ambulance so they wouldn't know who you were." She blushed again, this time profusely. She'd forgotten what Alfred had said about her being almost naked. So did that mean he really was there? Or had Tim mentioned it? "So you owe me double, I think."  
  
"I don't owe you anything." She said sharply and walked ahead. Her embarrassment had made her defensive. Tad, in all his tactful genius, replied:  
  
"Hey, don't feel shy. I didn't call you Hot Stuff for nothing." He reached out to stop her. Spoiler spun batting his hand away and dropped into a defensive stance. He was confused for a moment.  
  
"Don't touch me." To her dismay, Spoiler heard her voice waiver on the edge of a sob. This set off an immediate reaction in her companion.  
  
Tad hated it when girls cried. It was so pitiful; it disgusted him. He finally understood what was wrong with her and it made him angry.  
  
"You listen to me." His voice alone was menacing but the poor girl was not prepared in the slightest for his next action. He thrust his fore arm into her chest pushing her into the wall. Next, he jutted his knee into her thigh so she couldn't kick anything vital. She appreciated that he'd pinned her without touching her rib cage but that did nothing to lessen her fear. At last, he ripped off her hood. "If I'd wanted to hurt you, little girl, I would have joined the party in that alley." He took off some pressure but held her there until she absorbed the words and her fear turned to anger. That's better, he thought, and released her.  
  
"Now, I was stopping you because this is the end of the line." He grasped the ladder and ascended. "Either you trust me or you don't. You can settle down and come up, or find your way home. I really don't care."  
  
She rubbed her thigh and watched him climb. There was no logical reason to follow. "Except" She thought to herself, "Tad just accomplished what no one else has before. He took away my fear. He gave me no excuses but didn't try to tell me what to do either. He didn't go easy on me, yet made it clear that he wouldn't hurt me." Suddenly something wonderful occurred to her. She grabbed the nearest rung and started up.  
  
"How long have you been patrolling?" Spoiler called. 


	4. Lucid

(Short Disclaimer: This story has turned out much longer than I originally anticipated. This chapter is technically optional. If you wish to skip straight to the next and final chapter please fell free. You won't miss anything except a little more development between Tad and Stephanie. This chapter may also be considered a little too risqué for the PG reader. Thanks for reading this far.)  
  
Stephanie sat cross-legged in the rain atop a nearly empty slum building. Nearly empty except for her new teacher who slumbered restlessly waiting for dusk to fully claim the city. The late spring drizzle was still a bit chilly but it steamed off her bare skin which was flushed and hot from exertion. She wore only shorts and a cropped tank.  
  
Tim had only taught her three actual martial arts forms but she'd recently begun making up her own routines out of moves she felt blended together naturally. A few of these she had memorized using them as often as the set forms, and some she changed a little here and there as felt right at the time. Tonight she'd given her body free reign to move how it would. By the time the downpour began she'd been at it for over an hour. Yet she did not collapse when her body finally told her it was finished. Instead she sat slowly and meditated. She found herself centered and intensely invigorated.  
  
She heard Tad, who was apparently not asleep any more, step out onto the roof and come toward her. It was then, in her calm, uber-lucid state that she realized two very disturbing things. The first was that she was powerfully attracted to Tad. Of course, she'd realized this to a point from the moment she'd seen him but now she accepted it as a part of herself and looked inward at the emotion from an objective distance. This was good as it steadied her to accept the other part of the revelation: Tad was a monster.  
  
In the moments it took him to reach her, Stephanie methodically retraced the past month in her mind.  
  
She had told Tim she was going to lay off the costume gig to recover but that she didn't want to see him for a while either. She'd returned to this god-forsaken hole every night there-after. There would be no physical training until her ribs healed. Tad said, it didn't bother him that much to not patrol here. It wasn't his turf and besides the crooks had this unnatural fear of really dark places, as though they were always expecting something to jump out at them. This made it really hard to sneak up on them.  
  
Steph stayed true to what she'd said. She never donned her costume. They mostly sat and talked about their adventures. She was especially attentive to his account of a vigilante in Bludhaven who tried to take him off the street. She could totally relate to having to fight for her right to be out there. They happily ranted about it for days.  
  
Tad showed off some of his better moves for her. Stephanie realized quickly that what he lacked in developed skill he more than made up for in passion. She gingerly showed him a few simple things that would improve his technique which he shrugged off at the time but she saw him integrate them later in his performances as though he'd thought of them himself. She just rolled her eyes and smiled.  
  
Once in a while he'd get edgy, itching for a fight, so he'd go out for a couple of hours. This was usually late so she'd call it a night and take off. But that night she'd stayed and fallen asleep in a corner of the room. In fact that's what started the problems in this last week. He returned limping and bloody, groaned and slumped down on his make-shift bed. Stephanie rose and came toward him concerned.  
  
"Are you alri-" But he lunged for her knocking her back with speed that belied his obvious injuries. She realized her mistake instantly. He did not expect anyone to be here and was feeling vulnerable. Fortunately, they landed in the stark street light blaring through the window. His hand was around her neck as he straddled her. Recognition dawned in his eyes and she felt his panting slow. But his hand did not move. It occurred to her that there was no pressure on her throat; he was supporting most of his weight on his fingertips. She closed her eyes and shuddered, becoming aware of the smells of his body. Sweat, blood, but she sensed another, weaving through the two, that hinted his desire. Then, she tasted salt and copper. Again she sensed in his lips a lack of skill almost totally eclipsed by zeal. She demonstrated with no attempt at subtlety and it wasn't long before the kiss was entirely his again. This time she didn't roll her eyes.  
  
She noticed his hands didn't need such guidance though they did not stray to the usual places. His right, which had been poised to crush her wind pipe slipped easily under her head and his left snaked around her waist. All the while he balanced on his knees and right elbow, touching his body to hers but with no real pressure. She marveled that even now he was careful to avoid her sore spot though she was almost fully healed. He slowly twisted, deftly reversing their positions, and both his hands slid just under the hem of her shirt to wrap around her waist. She responded reflexively and began to take it off. Just as unexpectedly as it had begun the magic was over.  
  
His body slackened as though he were suddenly totally uninterested and put his hands behind his head. She froze, her shirt barely revealing the bottom of her bra. There was no hiding her red face this time. "What?" she breathed through an embarrassed laugh.  
  
"Gonna put on a show for me or somethin'?" He smiled but waited for an answer. She lowered her hands letting her shirt fall back into place.  
  
"I...I thought..." she shrugged. "You know..." she felt childish and his next words stung all the more for it.  
  
"Sorry sweetie." he chuckled "you're still Jail Bait. I can only give you so much of what you ask for, ya know?" She sat there stupefied for a moment then sputtered.  
  
"Jail...what I ask...what I ask for..." she tried to slap him but he caught her wrist in mid-swing and pushed her off him with another laugh. She skidded a little ways and looked up from hands and knees. "You Bastard!" She got to her feet and headed for the door but turned before actually exiting the room. "You don't know me. You don't know what I'm capable of." she heard herself ranting but didn't really think about what she was saying. She hadn't ever told him her age.  
  
She turned and stomped a few steps but then came back to the door to yell some biting comment about his bad kissing. She'd always thought she appeared older to most people, she knew experience had aged her in many ways. She got as far as the stairs this time before turning around to holler.  
  
"And you have no idea what you're missing!" Stephanie stomped down each stair as though trying to break it. Then, she tossed another quick one over her shoulder as loud as she could without looking. "Heaven knows I'm probably not missing much."  
  
She nearly jumped out of her skin when his large hand touched her waist. How had he gotten down the stairs so quickly with no noise? She swung away and missed the next step stumbling precariously. Tad caught her hand easily and as he pulled her to him out of danger, inquired "Then why are you still here?"  
  
"I was on my way out." the retort faded on her lips as his closed in.  
  
There were no more words between them after that. She still came every night and he enjoyed all those mostly innocent pleasures that only the very inexperienced indulge. But even as experienced as she was, it never got old. She was pleasantly surprised that his absolute passion could make a kiss more sensual than wantonly prancing bases.  
  
The first few days he'd made some sharp remark to break the mood when he wanted her to leave so he could sleep. To her own surprise, Stephanie, didn't react, just left calmly only to return the next night. One night he opened his mouth and she put a finger over it, pulled him firmly into her arms and didn't let go until his breathing told her he was asleep. Then she slipped away.  
  
That night walking home, the guilt that had been building inside her broke to the surface and she cried most of the way. She vowed to herself that she wouldn't go back. "He'll leave and never come back and I won't ever have to tell..." She couldn't say his name for fear of bursting into sobs again, too risky so close to her own door. However, the next night she used the very same thought to justify one last visit.  
  
"And now here I sit, soaked and suddenly cold for no other reason than he's about to touch me." she thought dryly. She couldn't imagine why after so many caresses that made her burn. He was so alive, a force of nature it seemed. Yet, for all of that, she knew he was incapable of the love she already knew from Tim. How had she strayed this far? How had she been so blind as to follow him into this fantasy?  
  
Too late. Tad knelt and traced the riverlets down her arm with his fingers. She closed her eyes and her mind instantly clouded. She half-heartedly tried to remember what she'd been thinking.  
  
"Let's go together tonight." he stated. There was something in his voice that hinted at more than the patrol but she didn't let herself entertain such a hope.  
  
"Where?" She grinned up at him, ready for anything.  
  
"Come on, you'll see." 


	5. Spoiler

Spoiler, but not Spoiler, balanced against the old apartment building's ledge about ten stories from the ground. A large drop landed on the left side of her neck and slid over her throat to the right. Then to her shoulder where, because that arm was reaching back across her vertically extended body to clutch the rope, it was redirected beneath her shirt and along her side before gravity got the best of it again. It wasn't raining anymore so she let her head loll back and looked up along the building. Looming over a tier another ten stories up was a large gryphon gargoyle. The drop could only have fallen from the end of its beak. She smiled broadly. Hanging there for the sheer thrill of it was wonderful but being in the right place at the right time for that little tickle was kismet. She had no idea she'd missed this so much during her long month of recovery. She swung herself in a side-arc and then pulled up to stand on the ledge. She figured she had better get to her destination before Tad thought she'd bailed on him. She smiled to herself again. Poor guy, she thought, he opted to take the stairs.  
  
Adding to the thrill of her climb was her attire, or lack of it. When Tad had asked her to go out tonight he also suggested she leave the costume behind. So, instead she stayed in her cropped tank and shorts and donned his offered mask (which was dorky but effective) and tossed freely into the night all inhibition. It felt liberating.  
  
She hoisted herself over another ledge and counted windows until she found the one Tad had described. It was open a crack and the end of a curtain fluttered out. As she approached she heard voices and realized Tad was already there. She heard a loud smack of skin on skin and her heart leapt then sunk into her stomach. She quickly shimmied to the window and threw it open. Bending down to look through, she gripped the sill ready to leap in. But instead she hesitated.  
  
There was Tad standing like a seething giant over a middle aged man strewn before him on the floor. She could not see the man's face but he shook slightly. With fear? With rage? She couldn't tell. She had no idea why Tad had brought her here or what this man had done to deserve Tad's wrath but uncertainty was not the cause of her hesitation.  
  
Standing wide eyed in the door behind Tad was a girl. She was eight maybe nine, blonde and a little tom-boyish in her stance and expression which conveyed a little fear but also the fascination of one never really sheltered from the world. She wore a large shirt and her hair was tousled. Did Tad know she was there?  
  
Tad and the girl both looked from the man on the floor to the woman in the window. Tad flicked his head to indicate he wanted her to come inside. The girl saw this and her eyes lingered on Tad for a moment then expectantly locked on Stephanie, waiting to see if she would comply. The man never took his eyes off Tad.  
  
Stephanie slowly stepped through the window to the floor where she assumed an unagressive stance with palms out and very slightly raised.  
  
"What's this?" She asked.  
  
"It's my present to you for getting better." He did not smile. "This jerk is a crook and a murderer." He jutted a thumb to indicate somewhere in the apartment behind him. "He's also got a little girl." He waited as though that should explain everything.  
  
In their month or so of sitting around talking, Steph had told him about her own father and the original reason she created Spoiler. She'd expressed her contempt for the man on several occasions.  
  
The man.  
  
She looked down at the man now sprawled before her who had still not turned to look at her. From behind, the back of his head could be her father's. The light was not good so she could imagine the hair color was the same. His build was certainly very close, at least from this angle. She looked up to the girl who still gazed back. She recognized the rough edges and lack of fear. The tainted innocence. She could easily believe this was the daughter of a man who snuck out at night when he thought she was asleep. She could imagine the angry tears of betrayal as she wondered where he was going and why he would leave her.  
  
Why do you have to go away? Why didn't you take me with you? I don't care if it's wrong; I just want to be with you. The thoughts flooded unbidden into her mind. She had to clench her eyes closed suddenly to keep the tears back. The transformation from grief and pain to rage, honed so finely by Tad, was instantaneous.  
  
"Where do you go?" she asked in a voice tight quivering with anger. The man stiffened. "Where do you go at night when she's crying before you even leave but stays quiet and pretends to be asleep so you don't wait too long?" she had made her way around to his side. Now she heard a whimper confirming the truth of her words and Tad swung around in surprise but she ignored them both. She stared fire into the man but he did not look up at her or answer  
  
"Tell her!" she nearly screamed and pointed toward the girl with an unsteady finger. Still, he stared only at Tad and did not comply. Stephanie leaned over and grabbed the man by his hair twisting his head so they were face to face. "You won't ignore me." She snarled. "You will not ignore her." With that she let go his hair and slapped him hard across the face. "Now tell her or I will cripple you so you can never leave this building again without her assistance." The girl let out a sort of muffled yelp but didn't move. Without taking her eyes from the older man, Stephanie continued.  
  
"She has a right to know. She has the right to hate you for it. When she knows what you really are do you think she'll care if I hurt you?" Finally he looked past Tad toward his daughter.  
  
"Would you baby?" He asked smoothly. "Would you hate me?" The girl's eyes filled with tears but she blinked them away.  
  
"I already hate you Daddy." She replied stiffly.  
  
The man sat there dumbfounded. Then he threw his hands up in the air.  
  
"You see? There's no point in me telling her, she already hates me. I do this all to give her a better life. All the jobs. Including the one..." the girl began to weep quietly "that stupid guy had to be a hero. He had to get between my gun and the clerk so the clerk could pull his own gun." He looked up at Stephanie. "I ain't ashamed ya know. I did it all for her" then back to his daughter "and I don't care if she is an ungrateful witch." Stephanie reached to slap him again but Tad was faster. There was a crack as his fist landed on the man's jaw. But he didn't stop there. He began a barrage of kicks and blows, cursing under his breath. At first Stephanie just looked on, a sick sense of satisfaction leaking into her heart.  
  
She felt a small hand grasp her own and pull. She looked down bewildered.  
  
"Please!" The girl begged hysterically. "Please, stop him. I know daddy's bad but I don't want him to die. He's all I have. Please!" She tugged again and Stephanie started as if she'd been asleep. She looked again and realized that's exactly what would happen. If she did not stop Tad he would kill this man. Just like he'd killed the guy in the alley.  
  
Stephanie's heart broke in that moment. She'd hoped that guy would die, just like she'd hoped her father would die. And when he did she'd berated her own mother for missing him. Now, she hated this man for what he was doing to his daughter's childhood, for his lack of shame. But, someone did love him, despite what the girl had said, and Stephanie could not begrudge her that love. She gave the little hand a quick squeeze and strode purposefully forward. Firmly grasping Tad's arm before he could swing again she spoke his name. He whirled batting her hand away, and instantly turned back. This time she caught his knuckles in mid-swing and didn't let go.  
  
"I won't let you." She said calmly. He wrenched his fist free and it swung toward her head. She dodged easily.  
  
"Why would you stop me?" He asked bitterly and advanced on her now. She backed away but did not cower. "Don't you see this is the only way? You told me yourself your father was better off dead." Stephanie stopped abruptly, facing him with resolution.  
  
"It's not right, Tad." She did not raise her voice. This time there was no fear or anger for him to manipulate. He lashed out in frustration. Stephanie found herself on the floor and tasted blood.  
  
"I thought you understood!" he shouted down at her. "Damn it! You were so perfect. I actually wanted you to come with me. I wouldn't have been alone anymore." He was screaming now and the last few words cracked. His anger tripled, fed by the emotion he refused to feel. He kicked her in the same ribs he'd been so careful to avoid. She croaked in pain, and grasped her side. He stood there heaving as she slowly stood. She almost doubled over again but only winced. Stephanie took a step toward him and took his hand gently. He watched her, speechless. She looked up with pain dancing in her eyes.  
  
"I'll...I'll still go with you." She whispered, smiling. "But only if we leave right now." A war played out on Tad's face, but he did not let go of her hand. Just when Stephanie began to hope she heard a small voice from across the room.  
  
"Daddy?" whispered the little girl. "Daddy!?" Stephanie thought she understood and her heart fell. Dropping his hand, she stepped around Tad expecting to see a dead man. Instead she saw an open drawer and a gun pointed at Tad's chest.  
  
All thought fled Stephanie's mind as she watched the man's lips move and his finger pull the trigger.  
  
"Bastard." He cursed.  
  
Time slowed to a grind as she placidly stepped in front of Tad. The heat exploded in her shoulder and she heard all three of them cry out. This amused her. "What else did you expect?" She thought what she could not say.  
  
Stephanie felt herself slide to the floor in Tad's arms. She let her head loll back for the second time that night, and smiled. His face was spattered with her blood and held the most anguished expression she'd ever seen. She reached up and touched it. He let out something between a laugh and a sob. Then her fingers slid down his chin as her arm could no longer support its own weight. 


	6. Epilogue

Stephanie stirred in darkness. She thought she opened her eyes but still saw only black. Then, there were a few faint shades of grey and she could just make out the cowl. She focused on it, frightened. Some irrational part of her said she was dead and this was Hell: An eternity under the disapproving eye of the Dark Knight himself. She shuddered but couldn't look away. His cape moved ever so slightly in the breeze from the window. And then, he nodded. It was a stiff motion but unmistakable. She squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head in disbelief but of course when she opened them again there was only the open window.  
  
"Jackass." she thought as she was pulled back down into oblivion.  
  
********  
  
Blearily, Stephanie, opened her eyes at the sound of hushed voices, lots of them. She heard one of them shush all the others. A slender hand was gently placed on her brow and she knew instantly it was Alfred though she could not focus to see his face. She felt the same comforting feeling as before when he spoke.  
  
"Are you awake enough to understand us this time, child?" She blinked and felt her eyes resist opening again so she simply closed them.  
  
"Yeah. Could you get them to go away so I can sleep?" she heard their relieved chuckles ripple across the room and then nothing more.  
  
********  
  
She walked in a dream across a long bridge to meet Tad at the other side. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him but he did not embrace her. She stood back again wondering and he pulled out a knife. He plunged it into her chest and began carving out her heart. She could only stand there looking down in morbid fascination. He pulled it out and handed it to Tim who was suddenly standing next to her. He licked the blood off his fingers and put the knife away, kissed her lightly on the lips and walked away without a word. She blinked. Tim was suddenly in front of her. "If you want it back" he stated mercilessly. "You'll have to eat it." Then he began to cackle madly...  
  
Steph woke up with a start. The hospital room was bright with sunlight and Tim sat at a little table next to her bed doing homework. He leapt up when he noticed her looking at him. Instantly he was by her side, grasping her hand.  
  
"Steph!" He laughed. "Took you long enough." She chuckled weakly.  
  
"How long was I out?"  
  
"You lost a lot of blood, in a comma for two weeks before you woke up for Alfred. You've been sleeping for about sixteen hours now. The doctors assured us you hadn't slipped back into a comma but I was beginning to wonder." He looked at her more closely. "You're beautiful you know.."  
  
"Oh Tim!" she sobbed interrupting him. "Don't be so nice to me." She tried to pull her hand away from his but he held fast.  
  
"Stephanie, I know what happened. You were under a lot of stress. I understand."  
  
"Damn Batman!" she spat. Tim blinked.  
  
"How did you know he told me?" but she just rolled her eyes.  
  
"Tim, I betrayed you! How can you sit there and..."  
  
"Steph you're weak and agitated. Lets talk about this later."  
  
"No." she put her fingers over his mouth. "I have to get this all out; tell you while I have the courage." She took a breath. "Is he gone?" she looked down at her hands. Peripherally she saw Tim nod solemnly.  
  
"Totally disappeared." He replied.  
  
She sighed and looked back into his eyes.  
  
"I love you Tim. God, how I love you." She pulled his hand up to press her cheek into it. "I love being Spoiler, every minute of it. But...I also love Tad." Tim visibly winced. "You see? What does that tell you? I don't know what love is? I'm a confused little girl with a lot of pent up anger and nowhere to express it?" A tear rolled down his cheek as she went on. "You know what, Tim, I don't even know. But I do know that I have to find out, and I can't do it hiding behind a mask." Tim looked back into her eyes searching. Stephanie smiled. "I want you to go to my house and get my costumes." She hesitated only a moment. "I want you to burn them Tim. I don't ever want to see them again." Her own tears finally flowed now, and he gathered her into his arms but she wasn't done with him yet.  
  
"I'm going to ask mom to move. I can't stay in Gotham." Tim pulled away slightly and wiped his tears away."  
  
"Stephanie Brown, are you telling me you're going to break up with me?"  
  
"No, Tim Drake, I'm doing it right now."  
  
Tim hugged her again determined to hold on for as long as possible. He knew that as soon as he let go, it would be forever. 


End file.
